


Devil's Advocate

by Uniasus



Series: The Long Con [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Biblical Reinterpretation, Biblical times, Crowley's keeping secrets, Gen, The Crucifixion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 20:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20102866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uniasus/pseuds/Uniasus
Summary: "So who’s, ah, ‘heavenly spirit’ made him? God didn’t get herself pregnant, so who did?"Aziraphale choked on air, turning to the man next to him. Crowley, of course.





	Devil's Advocate

**Author's Note:**

> While this fic references events from "The Honey Trap", you don't have to read that to get this.

Jesus Christ wasn’t much, Aziraphale had to admit.

After all, he remembered the stories of the Nephilim. He’d never seen one, he served his punishment for Eden while they roamed Earth, but the stories had spread wide.

This angel or that had taken a human wife and begot children. Children whose heavenly parentage meant a normal human body wasn’t enough to contain all the Grace they had. In response, the bodies had grown, not across the planes of existence like angel’s, but upwards within their own plane.

They became giants, seven, eight, ten, twelve feet tall. They performed incredible feats, were the heroes of their time. They were all gone now, of course, killed in The Flood. Yet the stories had lingered and Aziraphale thought Jesus, a similar product of divinity and humanity, would be a Nephilim of old.

Instead, he was very, very, human.

Just a regular man, sitting on a donkey, if you could call a man who charmed tens of thousands of people with faith and teachings and miracles a regular man.

"So who’s, ah, ‘heavenly spirit’ made him?"

Aziraphale choked on air, turning to the man next to him. Crowley, of course. Aziraphale had recognized the demon’s aura a moment ago but hadn’t assumed the demon would come say hello. They weren’t actually friends.

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"Him," Crowley jerked a pointy chin in the direction of Jesus. The crowd was waving palm leaves to welcome him. "Mother, Son, and the Holy Spirit. God didn’t get herself pregnant, so who did?"

Aziraphale took half a step back in shock. "God didn’t _get pregnant_. Mary did. A pious girl, whom God blessed-"

Crowley waved a hand in Aziraphale’s face to stop him talking. "Right. I forgot you’re an angel."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Crowley pierced the angel with his yellow snake eyes. "It means you were created to be what God wants you to be. Which is usually bootlickers."

Aziraphale puffed up.

"It also means," Crowley continued, watching Jesus ride past on his donkey, "That you don’t question anything She says."

"That’s not true," Aziraphale said, but it came out weak. There were times where he had wondered _why, why, why_ but not enough to commit to the idea something was wrong. He could have helped more people in Sodom, maybe even stopped it if he had really tried, but hadn’t. God always had a plan, an Ineffable Plan. It wasn’t his job to question it, just see it carried out.

Crowley turned back to Aziraphale and the angel got the impression of being prey. He was being sized up, evaluated, looked over for weak spots.

"If you do question, angel," Crowley made the word insulting, dirty, like "tax collector", "Then you don’t question enough. You have to ask _and_ answer your questions."

"Isn’t questioning what made you Fall?"

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. "One day, you’ll ask the right questions. You’re not near there yet. Give it a few thousand years."

Aziraphale frowned, insulted. "What question should I be asking?"

"You can start with ‘Who is JC’s father?’"

Aziraphale huffed. "He has two mothers, God and the Virgin Mary."

"Oh, right, two mothers. I thought myself, maybe it had been Megatron, you know how close God and he are, but it could have been someone else who shifted for the night. Michael, do you think? Michael prefers a female form now, right? She could have been a guy for a night though."

Aziraphale flushed pink and fluttered his hands. "I don’t know what demons do down below, but angels aren’t like that! We don’t… we don’t…"

"Have sex?"

"No! I mean, yes, we don’t. There’s no purpose for us to do so."

"Fun?"

Aziraphale shot Crowley a glare. "The act is reserved for child creation. We cannot reproduce, with each other," he added quickly, "so we don’t try. And humans are off-limits."

"Worried about a second Flood?"

"God said She would never."

"Do you believe Her?"

Aziraphale remembered a different rainstorm he’d experienced, not too long ago. Asphalt raining from the sky, trailing fire to smash in a well he’d drunk out of only hours before. Aziraphale didn’t answer.

"That’s one of those questions, angel, you’ll have to answer. At least for yourself." Crowley turned to go.

"You’re leaving? You don’t want to meet Jesus?"

"Oh, I already have. Who do you think encouraged him to tear apart a temple?"

Aziraphale stared after him, mouth ajar.

* * *

Crowley stayed in the area, Aziraphale felt him even if neither sought out the other. It’s not until Jesus was being nailed to the cross that the demon slinked over to Azirapahle’s side again. He’s fascinated by the procedure of nailing Jesus’s feet and hands.

"I keep asking myself," Crowley said, "why he’s not giant tall, but look at him. He’s fully human."

"That was the point. Jesus is human, no matter his origin, so God can understand life down here. To connect with humans."

"You think that’s God in a body?"

"No! Don’t put words in my mouth."

"You do that on your own. But hmm, God in a flesh suit like us."

"It’s her son," Aziraphale said indignantly.

"I’m her son."

They both want quite after that. Watched Jesus’s cross get pulled up and pain bloom on his face as gravity takes hold. Held in place by only two nails and a bit of rope, Aziraphale couldn’t imagine.

"We’re all Her children," Aziraphale eventually said. "You, me, the humans."

"Hmm. But it wasn’t our experiences she wanted to understand. Yours. Mine. Humans get a savior, we got nothing."

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. Jesus's death would ripple through humanity’s collective soul. He was a fresh slate, forgiving humans their past sins and providing an avenue for future humans to live a righteous path. A sacrifice of one for the many.

"I’m sorry," Aziraphale said slowly, "that your kind didn’t get a similar offer."

"My kind?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale found it easier to watch Jesus then turn and look at Crowley. "You’re not all bad. I saw what you did in Sodom. I’m sorry there wasn’t an angel brave enough to do for all of us what Jesus is doing for humans."

Silence fell between them. "Including you?" Crowley asked.

"Including me," Aziraphale answered.

Crowley let out a loud, skipping hiss and it took Aziraphale a moment to realize it was laughter. He turned to the demon in shock.

"There you go," Crowley said, "answering the hard questions. You’ll get there, angel."

Aziraphale didn’t know if he should be pleased or not, so he settled for a touch affronted.

"It’s not me you have to worry about though."

"No?"

"I’m not an angel, you are. And if Jesus is here to absolve humans of sins past and future, don’t angels deserve that too? If we had an angelic version of Jesus, do you think you would have fallen five ranks in the Host? Been restricted to only three planes of existence?"

"How did-"

"It seems to me, Aziraphale, I don’t need a Jesus. You and the other angels do. So here’s another question for you – why do the corrupt humans get a savior and you don’t?"

Aziraphale opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. His voice finally worked the third time he tried. "I’m an angel. I’m inherently good."

Even as he said it, he remembered God yelling at him, God punishing him, recalled standing still in Sodom because he couldn't do anything to risk the fall of more ranks in the Host.

"Angels aren’t creatures of good," Crowley countered.

Aziraphale’s gaze drifted to the space behind Crowley, where an angel’s wings would manifest. Demons, fallen angels, were rumored to have black wings. Stripped of light and love, scorched from the fires of Hell, they were a constant reminder of a demon’s sin. Curious, Aziraphale turned his attention to his eyes on the other six planes to see Crowley’s form there.

Unlike Aziraphale's one angelic form, light spanning all seven planes of existence, Crowley's dark matter body only occupied three planes. And whereas angels squeezed into the mortal plane, Crowley's body gave the opposite effect – that the bulk of his form was on the mortal plane and the extra bits overflowed where they willed. He had no wings, just a large, cylindrical, looping and writhing form that shimmered with iridescent skin; a snake on all planes.

Blinking back to the mortal plane, Aziraphale shook his head. A long time ago, angels sinned and were punished. No second chances. No chance for redemption. And yes, Aziraphale was worried that one day, he’d cross a line and be punished too.

Crowley had not gotten a second chance, but Aziraphale had. The humans were on chance number three.

_Do we not love Her enough? _Aziraphale wondered. _Are we not loved enough by Her?_

Questions, questions, questions. Aziraphale hated them, wanted them gone, even as he knew that now thought, the questions would stay with him for a thousand years. 

Around them, people sobbed for Jesus, praised his life, and thanked him for dying for humankind.

God had saved humanity twice, through Noah’s Ark and now through Jesus Crist. As cruel as She could be, She could also be merciful. Aziraphale could have black wings instead of a principality. 

"Angels are creatures of God," Aziraphale eventually answered. "And we follow her will."

"Are you implying She created me just to fall? If everything goes according to Her will."

"I -, no, of course not-"

Crowley lifted an eyebrow, not believing him for a second and Aziraphale blushed. The fact is, if Crowley and all the other demons had fallen, they were meant to fall. It was part of the Ineffable Plan. _Crowley didn’t deserve that,_ he thought.

"Good," the demon said. "I’ll let you in on a secret. None of us were created to fall."

Before Azirphale can ask what Crowley meant by that, the sky above darkened. As the sunlight faded, so too did Jesus. He died in the middle of the eclipse. When Aziraphale turned back to Crowley, the demon was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I am going somewhere with these fics guys, I swear, even if it might feel like I'm just being random. I'm very curious if you have any notion about what the "long con" is.


End file.
